«I don’t know. There’s a poisonous feel to that woman. And if people are frightened badly enough for long enough, they’ll turn to anyone that promises a solution.»
«But human sacrifice, Amanda?»
«The Aztecs were into it,» she said evenly. «Listen, David. You come back. If anything happens … anything … you come back. Cut and run if you have to. Not for me, what happened last night was nice, but that was last night. Come back for your boy.»
«Yes, I will.»
«I wonder,» she said, and now she looked like Billy, haggard and old. It occurred to me that most of us looked that way. But not Mrs. Carmody. Mrs. Carmody looked younger somehow, and more vital. As if she had come into her own. As if… as if she were thriving on it.
We didn’t get going until 9:30 A.M. Seven of us went: Ollie, Dan Miller, Mike Hatlen, Myron LaFleur’s erstwhile buddy Jim (also hungover, but seemingly determined to find some way to atone), Buddy Eagleton, myself. The seventh was Hilda Reppler. Miller and Hatlen tried halfheartedly to talk her out of coming. She would have none of it. I didn’t even try. I suspected she might be more competent than any of us, except maybe for Ollie. She was carrying a small canvas shopping basket, and it was loaded with an arsenal of Raid and Black Flag spray cans, all of them uncapped and ready for action. In her free hand she held a Spaulding Jimmy Connors tennis racket from a display of sporting goods in Aisle 2.
«What you gonna do with that, Mrs. Reppler?» Jim asked.
«I don’t know,» she said. She had a low, raspy, competent voice. «But it feels right in my hand.» She looked him over closely, and her eye was cold. «Jim Grondin, isn’t it? Didn’t I have you in school?»
Jim’s lips stretched in an uneasy egg-suck grin. «Yes’m. Me and my sister Pauline.»
«Too much to drink last night?»
Jim, who towered over her and probably outweighed her by one hundred pounds, blushed to the roots of his American Legion crewcut. «Aw, no-»
She turned away curtly, cutting him off. «I think we’re ready,» she said.
All of us had something, although you would have called it an odd assortment of weapons. Ollie had Amanda’s gun, Buddy Eagleton had a steel pinchbar from out back somewhere. I had a broom handle.
«Okay,» Dan Miller said, raising his voice a bit. «You folks want to listen up a minute?»
A dozen people had drifted down toward the OUT door to see what was going on. They were loosely knotted, and to their right stood Mrs. Carmody and her new friends.
«We’re going over to the drugstore to see what the situation is there. Hopefully, we’ll be able to bring something back to aid Mrs. Clapham.» She was the lady who had been trampled yesterday, when the bugs came. One of her legs had been broken and she was in a great deal of pain.
Miller looked us over. «We’re not going to take any chances,» he said. «At the first sign of anything threatening, we’re going to pop back into the market-»
«And bring all the fiends of hell down on our heads!» Mrs. Carmody cried.
«She’s right!» one of the summer ladies seconded. «You’ll make them notice us! You’ll make them come! Why can’t you just leave well enough alone?»
There was a murmur of agreement from some of the people who had gathered to watch us go.
I said, «Lady, is this what you call well enough?»
She dropped her eyes, confused.
Mrs. Carmody marched a step forward. Her eyes were blazing. «You’ll die out there, David Drayton! Do you want to make your son an orphan?» She raised her eyes and raked all of us with them. Buddy Eagleton dropped his eyes and simultaneously raised the pinchbar, as if to ward her off.
«All of you will die out there! Haven’t you realized that the end of the world has come? The Fiend has been let loose! Star Wormwood blazes and each one of you that steps out that door will be torn apart! And they’ll come for those of us who are left, just as this good woman said! Are you people going to let that happen?» She was appealing to the onlookers now, and a little mutter ran through them. «After what happened to the unbelievers yesterday? it’s death! It’s death! It’s-»